


Look For The Light

by gxldendream



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Apocalypse based off of the last of us!, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Heavy Angst, More characters to come, Reader-Insert, Seattle rain kinda sucks, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29703318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gxldendream/pseuds/gxldendream
Summary: When in search for a secure sanctuary out on the West side of the country, you stumble across a stranger. Even if he had saved your life, why would you trust him?He claims he has the cure in the safe walls of his so called “protected” community later on, and you call that bullshit. So, there’s only one way to find out; you follow him.
Relationships: Technoblade/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51





	Look For The Light

The red light of a flare reflects off the mixture of blood and rain building up on the cracked streets of Seattle. A few fresh bodies lined the street, the smell of sulfur and smoke making your eyes water. You sit on a bench of an old, broken bus stop, taking cover from the harsh rain that had you now soaking wet. A small group of hunters had decided to jump you; 3 vs 1. Downtown wasn’t a secure area to be snooping around in, yet your luck had just run out. You were only passing through the city, minding your business as you searched for a place to stay for the night. 

They had come out of nowhere, yet thankfully, using a few projectiles from the ground to aid in your fight, you managed to defeat all of them. Now, it left you more tired than ever. It’s dark and cold. Blood stains your quivering hands, your axe resting beside you, also drenched in the blood of your dead enemies. You lift your hand up, moving it out from underneath the cover of the bus stop and into the rain. The blood on your hand washes off with the heavy rainfall, leaving your hand cold and wet. You pull it back, wiping it on your damp pants before looking around.

With what you can see from the light of the flare, there were many buildings around. Honestly, you’re too exhausted to fight any infected if you had to clear out an area, so maybe chilling here for a small amount of time might be good. You kick your legs up to rest on the other side of the bench, leaning back against the dirtied glass, moving your head down as you close your eyes and rest. Your body felt so heavy, and you were not sure if you could put up much of a fight anymore.

You were aware that sitting out in the open was a bad idea, but it’s not like you have any other choice. You’re way too tired to fight. Keeping your axe and knife close, you just rest your eyes for a moment. Who knew it rained so much in Seattle? It’s a fucking nightmare, that’s for sure. Walking through the city was like a death trap. Every street, as well as building was all broken up, and ready to fall within seconds. It was decrepit and old, and you sometimes imagine what it would be like to see a regular street not overtaken by vegetation. Not to mention, all the groups of hunters posted around the city made it even more dangerous.

You’ve come here for one thing: salvation. Travelling from Maine, you’ve been through hell and back on this dangerous trip just to find a strong settlement with a good group of people. It’s hard to find these days, and you’re hoping that what you’re looking for still actually exists.

While on your way to Wyoming, the easiest path to the heart of the city was blocked. It seems that FEDRA, a government military now long gone, had blown a huge crater into the main highway and roads that would have lead you there.

So much for taking the easy route, huh?

So now, you have to make a loop around and hop through a couple of states, and now, you’re currently in Seattle. All you’re doing now is just searching for another way into Wyoming, and you’re hoping there is one on the opposite side.

Fifteen minutes pass by, and you have just a little bit of energy to stand up and walk. It’ll be cold the second you step out into the rain, so you’ll have to hurry to find more cover. Picking up your axe and storing your knife back in its holster, you pull up your hood. You scan the area again, then once you find a place that looks promising enough, you begin to speedily walk towards it. It was a small building—a gas station maybe. It looked to have a roof that hadn’t caved in yet. 

As you make your way inside, you hold your axe up, waiting to swing at any infected that might rush up on you. You couldn’t hear anything coming from inside. That either means it’s clear, or stalkers were roaming inside, waiting to pounce on you. You waited a few more seconds to listen for anything, yet again, nothing. 

Your eyes are now adjusted to the darkness of the building, then you take a closer look around. There seemed to be a few things on the shelves, but nothing of use to you. A soft sigh leaves you, that heavy feeling of sleep making you feel as if a ton of bricks were set on your shoulders. You set your bag down on what used to be a counter—it’s all overgrown and mossy. 

“Fuck.” you mutter, unzipping your bag and realizing that all the food you had snagged might be damp or crushed. Taking a look inside, you notice that only a few of them were. Granola bars, a few cans, yet thankfully none of them were popped or ripped open. Your fingers grip onto the zippers on the sides of your bag, but as you begin to zip it up, something cold and rustic is wrapped around your neck. “You fucking bitch.” the man seethes behind you.

A gasp leaves you as you’re yanked back by the cord, fingers grasping at it to try and pull it off, and maybe have enough strength to kick the guy in the shins. You snap your head back, trying to headbutt who was choking you, yet you unfortunately missed. The two of you stumble roughly into a shelf, and that grants you enough time to slide your butterfly knife out that was holstered on your thigh. With three quick stabs to the man’s side, he lets go and yells out in pain. You gasp for air the second the cord is off of your throat, then quickly turn around and lunge at the man. 

He grabbed hold of your shoulders before you could do much of anything, and slammed you into the shelf beside him, the cord still wrapped tightly in his hands. Your knife unfortunately drops to the floor from the sudden impact. The cord pushes up against your neck again roughly as he pins you to the shelf. “You think you’re fuckin’ tough killing my friends out there?” he pants out, a sick, sadistic smile lining his chapped lips. You struggle against him, thrashing to try and get a little bit of air, but he moves his hands forward to tighten the cord on your throat.

He opens his mouth to say something rather vulgar, but he was cut short suddenly. An arrow was embedded in the side of his head, and the man then dropped to the floor, taking the cord with him. You take in ragged breaths, now in shock, fingers lightly touching your neck at the already bruising marks. Forgetting about your wounds for a moment, you speedily pick up your knife and face whoever could have launched that arrow at the man, yet you see no one. Your eyes scanned the area near the front of the gas station, alarmed and now much more awake than you were before. Who the hell—

“Don’t make any noise. They’ll hear you.” a voice suddenly speaks up from behind you. You freeze on the spot, glancing at whoever spoke to you out of the corner of your eye. He had his bow drawn and pointed towards you, keeping his eyes trained on you. He could nail you in the head at any second from where he stood, so you kept still, now quiet. 

In the distance, you could hear shouts and cries from a group of men—hunters. They found the bodies of the men you killed. You slowly take in a deep breath and close your eyes, mentally cursing yourself out at how you just left them to be found. It would have been better for you to hide them. You now realize you make stupid descisions when exhausted.

Eventually, they leave the area in search of whoever had killed their men, and you slowly moved away from the stranger, yet he hummed in protest. “I never said you could leave. What the hell are you doing on this side of Seattle?” he questions you. If you were to reveal where you’re going, he might follow you there. To be honest, he had every reason to kill you right now. You got a better look at him under the dim light, and noticed that his hair was light pink, tied together in an unkempt braid. A small crown charm adorned the end, holding his hair in place. The look in his amber eyes was methodical and menacing. He was definitely someone you didn’t want to fuck with.

“I could ask you the same thing.” you reply back. He still has that arrow aimed right at your head, so there’s no reason to be a smartass. The man slowly lowers his bow down a bit after a couple of seconds. “This is my area. Now, answer my question; why are you here?” As you think about your response, your fingers gently touch the very obvious marks across the skin of your neck, wincing a bit at the pain. If you weren’t this exhausted, that situation would have never happened. Come to think of it, this stranger saved your life. Maybe you should be a little nicer.

It was threatening—his voice was very intimidating to listen to. You stiffen up a bit, the hand holding your knife tightening just a fraction. There’s no reason to lie now, is there? You huff before speaking. “I’m looking for a sanctuary up in Wyoming. I’m just passing through.” you reply with, and he lets out a soft chuckle. You gave him a look of confusion and anger, now wondering what the hell was so funny to him. 

The man lowers his bow all the way, keeping his eyes on you. “Jackson’s been overrun for years. It’s gone. Whatever you’re looking for; it’s destroyed.” he informs you. Before you can object to what he says, he steps forward and continues to speak. You move back as if he was going to charge at you, but he stops. He slips the bow and arrow onto the side of his bag, securing it with a small strap. “I have a settlement; a group of good people just North of here. It’s not the place you’re looking for, but it’s safe and protected.” he explains to you. It sounds promising, but you aren’t sure if it’s the truth. Why would he lie about Jackson being overrun? You haven’t heard anything about it in awhile, so that does leave you suspicious. 

“I’ll take you there. You’d fit right in.” he adds on, as if trying to convince you even more. After all this time, months after months of travelling, you come to find out that the one thing you’re searching for just… doesn’t exist? You’re a bit shocked and in denial. “Why should I trust you?” you ask him defensively, and he only smiles in return. “I saved your life. Isn’t that enough?”

Fair point.


End file.
